Ed’s note: Damon didn’t approve any of the exclamation marks or random capitalization in this letter. But he had to go along with it because he, too, has been guilty of a rude awakening of Cicely.
Dear Rude Awakeners,
Cc: The people who don’t appreciate my low tolerance for hunger
Everybody’s got their something. There are people who refuse to be disturbed during Real Chance of Love their favorite television program. Others won’t even acknowledge your existence during the fourth quarter of a close game. Me? Try interrupting my sleep, and I’ll give you the glare of death for what seems like a week.
This rule has been in effect since I turned 14. If you know me (and you do because you clearly have my number), you know this because I’ve told you before … …. repeatedly. Do NOT call me before noon… Ever!
I like to sleep. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I get excited about the prospect of lying down in my bed and snuggling underneath my covers. I like to curl up with a good book and situate my pillows just right so that I have the ultimate sleeping experience.
What I don’t like is for people to disrupt my REM cycle. I get aggravated and agitated. It’s almost like disturbing the Hulk. (I’m getting angry; you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.)
Many people can attest to this. Some of them aren’t friends now. But the repeat offenders are my family members, people I can’t chuck like an old pair of Chucks. I get that you have to wake up at the butt crack of dawn to get your kids ready for school (who, by the way, have to be there at 7:15, which I find outrageous). But just because you do more before 6 a.m. than most people do all day doesn’t mean I need to join you. Calling me at 7:30 (before my alarm clock has even gone off) will likely get you cussed out. I NEVER asked you for a wake-up call or to be my alarm clock.
So what is it? What is it you rude emeffers have to say that is SOOOOO important that waking me up before noon is a necessity? Just because you know I wake up at 8 a.m. doesn’t mean I want to talk to you. I don’t want to talk to ANYONE. At all!!!
I need time in the morning to gather myself. It takes me at least a couple hours after the first time I open my eyes to fully adjust to being awake.
Messing with my sleep is like messing with my emotions (a la Big Perm—er, um, Big Worm). Or better yet, messing with my sleep is like messing with my food.
Nothing tops disrupting my slumber, but a close second is keeping me from food. I’m generally a nice person and can handle just about anything. But I CANNOT take being hungry. The Hulk inside makes its presence known—from the grumbling in my stomach that sounds just like “HULK SMASH,” to the glare in my eyes and the snarl on my lips that say, “It’s time to feed Cicely.”
So, take notice, you rude, inconsiderate food/sleep snatchers: Don’t cross me or feel my wrath.
P.S. Really, I’m a nice person. But my patience is only so thin 🙂